Return To Me
by River Angel Odin
Summary: After an trip with Peter Pan to Neverland Amy Renolds and her younger brother Eric decide that they must return home.  Peter Pan makes a promise to them that he will return to London every night to visit.
1. Waiting

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any other characters, locations, etc. mentioned in the books and movies.**

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**Chapter 1 – **Waiting

Rentun Avenue was pitch black. It was an early Saturday morning and the sun had yet to brighter the sky. The broken streetlamps contributed to this unusual darkness as they usually lit the streets to guide cars that passed by and the common character out for a simple walk in the night.

These streetlamps also aided a young girl in seeing the sky above her. Amy Renolds sat on the windowsill of her room in her home, marked as 32 Rentun Avenue. The girl's eyes were aiming for the stars. At least, she had hoped they were. Everything was so dark, she couldn't see the difference between a building and the sky. The darkness caused everything in front of her to blend together. A glimmer of relief would appear in her eyes every once in awhile, but soon after she would realize that whenever she thought she caught glimpse of a star, her mind was simply playing cruel tricks on her.

"Amy," came a tired voice from behind. "You're still up?"

Amy sighed to herself, although a part of her felt relieved to find that she was being pulled from the window at which she had been staring hopefully through for quite a few hours now.

Amy looked behind her as she stepped down from the windowsill. "Eric, what are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same thing," her younger brother said using a bored sort of tone. He glanced toward the small black clock sitting on the night table by his bed. "Do you realize what time it is?" he asked, looking back toward his sister.

"I'm sorry," said Amy. "I'll go to bed now." She had taken a quick glance toward the clock herself to find the large green digits telling her that it was almost 2:00 AM. Time really flew by when she sat at the window. It didn't feel like it, though. Whenever she sat on that windowsill, time slowed down for her. Sometimes she wondered if time had ever stopped without her realizing it. All she knew for sure, though, was that it had felt as if she had been at that window for ages. However, these days, no matter how much she wanted to she couldn't seem to pull herself away.

"He's not coming back, is he?"

"What?" Amy muttered, only half paying attention to what her brother was saying. She was so distracted that it took her a moment to finally register in her mind what he had said.

"Peter. Peter Pan. He isn't coming back, is he?"

Amy didn't respond right away. She simply stared at the floor as she seemingly drifted lazily toward her bed on the far end of the room. "Oh, Eric. Don't say that. Peter promised that he would come visit every day."

"But it's been two weeks!"

"He must be busy with something." Amy was trying to come up with as many excuses in her mind as she could to make up for Peter's lack of appearance. "Maybe he's just…taking a break from traveling," Amy said hesitantly, her eyes remaining on her feet.

"For two weeks!?"

"Maybe…Maybe the pirates have been giving him trouble!" Amy's voice softened, but seemed to grow a bit more nervous.

"For two weeks!?"

Amy finally gathered herself, attempting to swallow her nervousness. "Eric, don't be silly. He'll come back." Amy couldn't help but feel as if she may never see him again, though. Her brother was just a year younger than her, only 14 years old, and was certainly not naïve and neither was Amy. Although she tried her best to reassure Eric that Peter would surely return, the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if he would really come back.

Peter Pan was still a child, though, and as much as she loved him and missed him, she wondered how trustworthy his promises could really be. As she feared, a thought came to mind. Peter was the type of boy who wanted nothing but to have fun. All fun and no work. If he had one, that would have been his motto. A very rare look of fear appeared on her face as a thought arose.

"Amy, what's wrong?" she heard Eric ask as Amy continued to stare at the floor below her feet, which hung from the top of her bed, her toes inches from the wood. She seemed frozen, her eyes widening a tiny bit. There was a short moment of silence just before Amy shook her head, lifting her legs over her bed so that she could pull the sheets over her. "It's nothing," she finally muttered softly. After hearing Eric move toward the door, the light in the room went out.

Amy's mind wandered, though, her eyes glued to the ceiling. What if she was no longer of any interest to him? What if Peter no longer found her fun to visit? What if she was now just a waste of his time? She could feel the blood rushing now, partially from fear of whether or not that was really the truth and partially from anger at…

Well, she wasn't exactly sure what she was angry at. She just knew that she felt an enormous amount of anger swelling up inside of her. At that time, tears were beginning to swell in her eyes.

"No," she said softly, trying to hold back those tears.

"Amy?" came Eric's voice.

There was a moment of silence before he continued.

"Amy, Peter will come back. You said so yourself. So don't cry."


	2. Flight

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any other characters, locations, etc. mentioned in the books and movies.**

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**Chapter 2 – **Flight

"Tink, what's your problem?" Peter lifted a hand to push the tiny ball of bright light to the side. There was a soft flourish of bells and that same ball of light seemed to be hanging onto the very edge of the red feather attached to Peter's green hat for dear life. The even tinier figure floating within that ball of light had a look of exertion on her face, tossing her head in a few different directions in her fruitless effort to pull him back. She was small but certainly not naïve and she knew that she had no hope in pulling Peter back. Tinkerbell was, after all, just the size of a baby's fist while Peter was that of a full-grown 15 year old boy.

Peter swept through the sky, the force of the wind finally sending Tinkerbell spinning for a few feet before she turned and zoomed forward to catch up with Peter. The boy turned his head, an amused grin appearing on his face just as he heard a burst of angry bells that was far too familiar to him. "Tink, you're not my mother!" For a split second, his tone was annoyance, but it was blocked by his laugh seconds afterwards. He shifted his position so that he was floating slowly backwards, his eyes on Tinkerbell. "You're a great friend and all, but let's be serious. You're practically 4 inches tall." Tinkerbell pressed her lips together and her face quickly grew redder. She slowed her pace a bit as she threw her head into the air, all 5 tiny fingers raised. A smug look stretched itself across Peter's face and he turned away from her, raising his voice to retort, "Oh, right, sorry. 5 inches."

Peter was lucky for his ability to fly. He would never last on the streets below. He'd seen the worst happen down there from his hideout in the dark night skies. He'd seen things that he never imagined he would have to see. Not only that, though, but as Peter looked down at the streets and their bizarre arrangement, all he saw was a giant maze. A labyrinth. He couldn't imagine having to find his way through that maze, much less actually live in it.

The sound of bells distracted Peter from his thoughts, and he looked toward the ball of light flitting from the left to the right and back again. "I'll go where I want to go!" Peter snapped, responding to the ringing. His confidence showed, but he actually had no idea why Tinkerbell was acting the way she was. All her actions had done, though, was, naturally, make him curious.

Peter descended slightly as he glided through the sky. His copper eyes shifted toward Tinkerbell, who had erupted into her usual fit where the volume of the ringing bells differed every second. She had flitted straight into his face, waving her arms in his eyes. It was almost as if she was trying to block his view, which was unsuccessful. Peter could see everything in front of him. What he couldn't see, though, was what Tinkerbell could possibly be having a fit over. "So this is what I get when I feel like taking a trip through London for the night?" he grumbled, narrowing his eyes a bit. He had stopped his flying moments before and was now floating there in mid-air, looking for any sign of whatever it was Tinkerbell was trying to hide. All he could see, though, were houses, more house, and the sky beyond. Peter glanced toward the fairy, puzzled. She didn't respond, only looked away in a huff.

Peter's eyes were locked to that general area for a few more moments before he finally broke away. He was about to turn, but his eyes fell upon a building just below him. The house was dark blue, but it almost looked black in the darkness. He couldn't see much of it since he was floating eye-level with the roof, but just below him was an open window. Aqua-colored curtains fluttered out through the window while to hang onto the inside for dear life. Peter couldn't help but feel a strange familiarity about the place. He squinted a bit. No, nothing. There was nothing he recognized. Curiosity kept Peter floating forward, though, straight toward the window. He ignored Tinkerbell's angry bells, perhaps not even registering their sound in her mind. He landed softly on the outside windowsill, peeked into the dark room and then stepping inside.


End file.
